“Called who?”
“Called Lord High Satan.” Raw, oozing whisper.
“Will you renounce?”
Eagerly: “Yes! Yes! Oh, my Jesus Savior!”
She rocked his head; he stared at her with the blank, shiny eyes of the zealot. “If he walked through that door”—she hammered a finger at the vestibule shadows where the gunslinger stood—“would you renounce him to his face?”
“On my mother’s name!”
“Do you believe in the eternal love of Jesus?”
He began to weep. “You’re fucking-A I do—”
“He forgives you that, Jonson.”
“Praise God,” Jonson said, still weeping.
“I know he forgives you just as I know he will cast out the unrepentant from his palaces and into the place of burning darkness beyond the end of End-World.”
“Praise God.”The congregation, drained, spoke it solemnly.
“Just as I know this Interloper, this Satan, this Lord of Flies and Serpents, will be cast down and crushed... will you crush him if you see him, Jonson?”
“Yes and praise God!” Jonson wept. “Wit’ bote feet!”
“Will you crush him if you see him, brothers and sisters?”
“Yess...” Sated.
“If you see him sashaying down Main Street tomorrow?”
“Praise God...”
The gunslinger faded back out the door and headed for town. The smell of the desert was clear in the air. Almost time to move on.
Almost.
XIII
In bed again.
“She won’t see you,” Allie said. She sounded frightened. “She doesn’t see anybody. She only comes out on Sunday evenings to scare the hell out of everybody.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Twelve years. Or maybe only two. Time’s funny, as thou knows. Let’s not talk about her.”
“Where did she come from? Which direction?”
“I don’t know.” Lying.
“Allie?”
“I don’t know!”
“Allie?”
